


Oxygen

by wretchedhag



Series: FGO/Kinktober [3]
Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Asphyxiation, Breathplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:29:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26955127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wretchedhag/pseuds/wretchedhag
Summary: Izou gets choked by Hijikata.
Relationships: Okada Izou | Assassin/Hijikata Toshizou | Berserker
Series: FGO/Kinktober [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956010
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Oxygen

**Author's Note:**

> for the day 5 prompt, "asphyxiation". i wanted to make izou submissive in this but his brattiness won out. by the way, it's really hard to come up with good titles and summaries for fics this short...

Hijikata straddles Izou’s midsection, using his weight to keep Izou pinned to the ground. He pulls Izou’s scarf away and wraps his hands around Izou’s neck; Hijikata’s touch is light, closer to a caress than a grip, but it promises more. 

They got here as they always do, with Izou antagonizing Hijikata to the point where it all boils over. It’s easier this way, to just view what happens between them as an inevitable outcome of events. Izou doesn’t want to admit that he doesn’t need to do any of that to make this happen. And, if the number of times Hijikata has allowed this progression of events is anything to go by, then Hijikata is of the same mind. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you run your mouth too much?” Hijikata asks.

Izou tilts his head up and to the side, trying to look down his nose at Hijikata despite being underneath him. “Can’t say as anyone has.”

“Is that right?”

Izou wonders if Hijikata can feel his excitement through the pulse point in his neck. Is his heart already racing? 

“It’d do you some good to try shutting up for a change.” 

When the last word leaves Hijikata's mouth, his fingers tighten down as if they’re the period to the end of his sentence. Izou automatically tries to draw breath, his body naturally fighting against what he wanted in the first place. Hijikata looks down at Izou as he squeezes, but the expression in his dark eyes is hard to read. 

Hijikata’s grip loosens up all too soon. 

“Ha,” Izou laughs, but it’s more akin to a vocalized gasp. “Is that the best the Demon Vice-Commander of the Shinsengumi can do? You’re weaker than that bratty noveli—”

Izou’s taunt chokes off as Hijikata squeezes down on his throat again, stronger this time. 

“You sure don’t know how to listen, huh? But I suppose you can’t ask for discipline from a mutt.”

Hijikata’s comments make Izou’s temper flare up. His hands lock around Hijikata’s wrists and he kicks his feet but his heels just slide uselessly against the tile floor; it’s not like he could do much, anyway, with the impediment of having Hijikata’s full weight on top of him. The corner of Hijikata’s mouth ticks up in a smirk as he watches Izou’s tantrum. 

Hijikata lets up again and allows Izou to catch his breath. He sputters, coughs, and tries to draw in as much air as possible. Izou’s heart pounds painfully against his ribs, and if Hijikata couldn’t feel his pulse before then it’s more than obvious now. 

But there’s another sensation, too. The adrenaline from Izou’s earlier anticipation merges with that of his burst of anger, and he can feel himself getting hard. His head is spinning but he wants more of the feeling. 

It’s not like Izou likes dying. He doesn’t. Every time his body takes too much damage on a mission and he’s forced to dematerialize it feels disgusting. 

But for some reason, he can’t seem to stop pushing the limits with Hijikata. In a situation like this, the pleasure he gets from being on the precipice and coming back down from it is addicting. Maybe it’s some warped feeling from how he got chased by the Shinsengumi when he was alive, he doesn’t know and doesn’t particularly care to figure it out; he just wants to enjoy it. 

“You had enough?” Hijikata asks. 

“Already wanting to give up?” Izou rasps, tit-for-tat. 

Hijikata shakes his head in disbelief and his hands tighten once again.

†

When Izou looks at himself in the mirror later that night, his neck is mottled purple with bruises from Hijikata’s hands. They’ll fade sooner rather than later, but for now Izou will take some pleasure in hiding them under his scarf. 


End file.
